All things considered, I actually feel pretty goddamn great about this. There was a lot of dead weight in that party and I’ve all always worked better alone anyway. There’s only one problem. I have no idea where the fuck I am.

  Well, two problems if you include the fact that I broke my hand when I punched the wall in the old hag’s cottage. I sort of forgot it was made of stone. Might not have thought that one through. But despite the broken hand and the not knowing where the fuck I am, I ride out of the village with my head held high and go in the direction that I’m pretty sure we came from. But of course I can’t see the sun through the thick cloud cover so I don’t actually know what direction that is. I’d ask the locals but I don’t feel like getting showered with spittle and I can’t understand a word they say anyway.

  I ride until nightfall. And then it gets cold. Like, uninhabitable, why-the-fuck-do-humans-even-live-in-this-part-of-the-world cold. When it’s time to get some shuteye, me and the horse end up having to get real cozy on the ground together to stay warm. Not sure how the horse feels about it but I don’t hear any complaints so I guess it’s fine.

  The next morning, our tracks are covered in snow and I can’t tell which direction we came from. Perfect. Before we get any farther, I have to resort to foraging for food since there isn’t much living up in these mountains for me to kill. Actually, there isn’t much to forage either. It takes all morning and most of the afternoon to get two handfuls of seeds and nuts but—hey, I’ve always wondered what pinecones taste like and now I know.

  The third day is when I start to think that this may not have been the brilliant idea I once thought it was. The fourth day is when I’m sure it wasn’t. That’s the day when things go from bad to horrendously bad to ‘holy shit, I genuinely didn’t think it could get any worse and then it did—what the fuck’ bad. It starts when I see some movement on a snowy hill out in the distance. From where I’m standing, it looks like a deer but with spiral horns. It’s walking across the hill while it roots around in the snow with its snout to look for food. What it thinks it’s gonna find in this wasteland, I have no idea. It must be one hell of a resourceful animal to survive all the way out here. It doesn’t matter though because it’s about to die. Sorry, but I'm hungry.

  I pull out my bow and my mouth is already watering. When I nock an arrow and draw back the string, the animal whips its head up and looks directly at me. I nearly have a heart attack. But then a few seconds later it drops its nose back into the snow and goes about its business.

  Can’t take any chances with this thing. Without wasting another second, I let the arrow loose and hit the fucker right in the neck and…

  …nothing happens. It just keeps on grazing. “…The hell?”

  I holster my bow and whip the reins on my horse to ride up the hill toward the deer-thing. It doesn’t even flinch. I don’t know if this animal is deaf or if it just has incredibly bad survival instincts but either way, something ain’t right. I trot all the way up to it and it acts like I’m not even there. And then I realize the arrow is missing. I’m sure I hit the fucker but now that I’m close enough to get a good look at it, it’s like the arrow just disappeared.

  I go ahead and hop off the horse to investigate. I take a few cautious steps through the snow until I’m close enough to touch it. Still, it acts like I don't exist. Then I look at the ground behind it and realize that, despite the fact that the animal is standing in about two inches of snow, there isn’t a single hoofprint.

  Baffled, I reach out to touch the deer and my hand goes right through it, leaving wispy trails of color in its wake. A second later, the whole deer turns wispy and then vanishes completely. I’m still staring at the spot where I thought my next meal was standing when I hear the horse whinny behind me. I spin around and then it all makes sense. Three furry little goblin-looking shits with spiral horns just like the fake deer are saddling up on my horse to ride off with it.

  “NO!!” As soon as I take off after them, the one in the front whips the reins while the one in the back kicks with both legs and, before I know it, my ride is riding off into the sunset without me.

  No way.

  No fucking way.

  I’m so stunned I drop to my knees. Right there in the snow. And then I just watch while they disappear over a hill in the distance. Not a chance in hell that I can catch up with them. As soon as they’re out of sight, I collapse onto my back and stare straight up at the sky. Not much to do now but wait. Either the cold will get me or the hunger will. Might as well get comfy.

  I think about a lot of things while I’m laying there waiting to die. And most of them have to do with Piper. Not about how much I miss her or how unfair it is that I’ll never get to see her again. I think about her waiting in that tower all alone. She’s not made to be alone. She’s made to be around people, laughing and talking and playing games and going on adventures. I can't even imagine how miserable she is right now. And I’m the one who promised I'd keep her safe. I was supposed to be the one who was there for her. I even let myself think that the two of us could have some kind of future together after this was all over. But look how that turned out. I somehow managed to not only help an evil sorceress destroy my own country, but I also ruined the woman I love’s life. The only person who ever cared about me. And now I’m gonna freeze-slash-starve to death for it. What a perfectly shitty ending to this story. And if Piper could see what I’m doing now—laying in the snow, staring up at the sky feeling bad for myself—she’d tell me that I should quit acting like a sad sack of shit and just go get my damn horse already.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  And she’d be right.

  ……

  You know what—fuck those goblins. I’m getting my horse back.

  I jump to my feet and squint into the distance to see where the snow prints go. It’s almost nightfall so I need to move fast. The only thing working in my favor is that those little assholes will have to set up camp themselves soon. Traveling at night is a death sentence in this place.

  Legs burning, lungs seizing, I haven’t eaten in days and feel like I can barely move but I am not going down without a fight. I could care less if I die but I refuse to go out of this world knowing that I gave up on Piper. I could never live with myself.

  Err—die with myself.

  You know what I mean.

  I’m stumbling more than running as I kick my way through the snow. Up the hill the goblins went over—scan the area for where the tracks lead next. Once I’ve gotten a lay of the land I resume the pursuit, racing down the hill until I lose my balance and go tumbling.

  I pull my arms in and roll down the embankment like a human-shaped log before coming to a stop with my cheek half-sunk in the snow. It burns in that weird way when your skin gets so cold it actually feels hot. I’ve just managed to open my eyes and lift my face up out of the snow when I see a wooden club arc through the air and go right into my jaw.

  And then everything goes white.

  ***

  I wake to the feeling of weightlessness. Followed immediately after by the feeling of my face smashing against dirt. Then I cough and rub my eyes while I roll over onto my back. All I can hear is a lot of very unpleasant, high-pitched yelling and the roar of a few torches. When I’m able to force my eyes open and unblur my vision, I discover that the yelling is coming from those pip squeak goblins. And there’s a whole hell of a lot more of them now. They’re up above me in a circle behind a rocky outcropping, waving torches and clubs around as they all hoop and holler.

  When I look back down I realize I’ve been tossed into an underground pit of some kind. The good news is that I found my horse. The bad news is that we’re both being sacrificed to a hungry-as-fuck cave ogre.

  It’s about twice as tall as I am and it has a bigass wooden club in its hand. Like, big enough to leave me puréed against the floor of this pit with a few good whacks. The ogre takes a step forward as I reach for my sword and...“Shit!” Those little assholes must have taken my sword. This is gonna take some ingenuity.

  Now, I’m not proud of this next part, but desperate times call for desperately running behind your horse to use it as a shield. It’s lived a good life. Probably. But when the ogre swings its club down at the horse, the animal runs out of the way and I damn near get hit myself. I fall on my ass trying to avoid the club and then scramble to my feet to sprint away.

  When I run around the ogre to get to where the horse is, the animal just takes off in the opposite direction to run away from me. At this point I think the horse might actually be conspiring against me. Maybe it didn’t appreciate those cozy nights on the ground together after all.

  I’ve decided it’s either me or the horse. Again, not proud. I chase it around and around while the ogre spins in a circle at the center of the pit to watch us. It tries to swing the club at us while we're running but thoroughly misses. The whole place rumbles whenever the weapon hits the ground. The horse and I do a couple full laps around the pit before the ogre staggers backwards on one foot.

  And now I have an idea.

  I keep chasing the horse, racing as fast as I can this time. And the stupid fucking ogre just keeps turning in a circle to watch us. When I spot a longish bone that looks like it might be a femur half-buried in the dirt, I go ahead and snatch it up on one of our go-arounds. We circle the ogre three or four more times and I’m actually starting to get pretty fucking dizzy myself by the time it finally falls onto its backside.

  As soon as its ass hits the ground, it’s stranglin’ time. I run behind it and leap up onto its back. Then with the femur in my right hand, I wrap both arms around its neck and grab the other end of the bone with my left hand. And then I squeeze. I squeeze with everything I’ve got, like I’m trying to pop the fucker’s head off. And with the broken hand, lemme tell you—it is excruciating. The monster tries to take a couple swipes at me but thankfully it’s about as limber as a hunk of driftwood. The brainless ogre even manages to whack itself in the head with its own club a couple times.

  It puts up a good fight but it eventually stops swinging. I feel like I’ve just spent an entire day lifting stones at the gym when I’m finally able to loosen my grip. The ogre is still on its ass, hunched forward with a bit of drool swinging like a pendulum from its chin. And then it falls sideways while I tumble out of the way.

  Next thing I know, I’m on my back catching my breath, staring straight up in a daze for the second time today. And there’s those pip squeak goblins staring back down at me. At least they’re not yelling anymore. Looks strangling the life out of their little pet finally shut the fuckers up.

  While I’m laying there waiting for them to all rush down and exact their revenge, something surprising happens. And it takes a hell of a lot to surprise me these days. Instead of running in to rip me to shreds, the goblins all start cheering. Some of them are even hugging each other. I get onto my feet and turn in a circle to watch them. Unless I’ve completely lost my marbles, I’d say some of them are even crying. Happy crying. Seems the ogre wasn’t their pet after all. The way they’re acting, I’d say the monster had actually been terrorizing the little freaks and they had just been bringing it treats like me so they wouldn’t get eaten themselves.

  A door opens behind me and more of the furry goblin-things run in. Then they start climbing all over the ogre, cheering their little heads off the whole way up. I don’t know what to make of it so I just shrug and climb back onto my horse. Once I have a hold of the reins, I give it a pat and say, “Hey, no hard feelings, right?” It gives me a little snort to accept my apology and then the two of us head for the exit.